Bullies
by dghjkhgdrtuio
Summary: Alda needs help with battletraining. who does he go to for help? Rated T for language in later chapter and a tad bit of violence and BOYISH ATTITUDE.
1. Horace After Training

**This is actually my first fanfic about the series "The Ranger's Apprentice." I've only read the first book, sadly, but I'm making my way through. Already I am intrigued to make a fanfiction about Horace and his tormentors Alda, Bryn, and Jerome. Wish for me to continue anyone? **

Horace couldn't take the torment the other older and more experienced Battle School trainees inflicted on him every day; sometimes more than once a day. Today, as the sunshine dipped down in the far off sky, blocked by tall and thick pine trees of the distant forest, the first year cadet snuck into his dorm. The shadows stretched along the empty dorm. Horace had yet to meet the gang of bullies, which was relief to him, but at the same time brought uneasiness into his nerves. They might wake him up in the hours of the night to perform humiliating and exhausting exercises for their amusement.

Horace slid onto his cot, burying his sweating face into the clean pillow. He breathed softly through his nose, trying to get the painful throbbing from his arms. Everyone else was still running the trail of the forest, but Horace being the top in his class, finished three minutes earlier than expected. Inside he felt proud of his will power to push forward and finish the last mile without giving out and having to start at the beginning of the trail, but he showed no such pride on his face when he crossed the line back into the gates of the kingdom.

He lay down in the ray of light that shone through the dorm's window, basking in the warmth it brought him. Although he didn't need the extra heat because of the long run he had to go through, and his heavy breathing and sweating showed clearly he was in no shape to get any warmer, he liked the steady heat it produced.

As he lay in the sunshine, he heard the dorm door open and close rather loudly. Horace snapped his head up from his pillow, his eyes blinking wearily in the sunlight. A figure moved into the shadows, barely catching the young Battle School cadet's eye. But Horace was on alert, and noticed the movement almost immediately.

"Hello?" Horace called out, sitting up completely on his cot. There was no such answer as the shadows rippled from the unknown intruder moving closer to the cadet. Horace, although his legs and arms were screaming with rest, tensed up. The form slinked along the wall, and Horace was unsure where the person was now. His eyes scanned the room for another moment before he stood up completely, clenching his fists. "If you don't tell me who you are them I'm attacking!" He shouted into the darkness.

He knew he couldn't stand a chance against the thing that had blended into the shadows so well. If he couldn't see his attacker, how could he know where to expect the attacker to pop up and strike? He took in a breath when he noticed a silhouette ripple from the shadow of the room. Horace felt his breath get caught in his throat at the familiarity of the shape.

It was Alda.

The older male formed from the shadows and gave Horace an evil sneer. "Oh, is Baby scared he might get his ass kicked?" Horace gulped, yet stood his ground against the dangerous man. To his surprise, the bully didn't have his other two friends with him. Horace looked around him, expecting the other two weasels to jump him from behind. Alda chuckled, holding up a hand as if to stop the younger man from becoming frantic. "No one else is here Baby so you don't need to freak out."

Horace relaxed, but not a lot. He wasn't about to let a weasel like Alda fool him in such a manner. "What do you want?" He asked, his voice quivering but just a tad. Alda's sneer only widened on his face. "I just want to see how Baby's doing right now. Baby tired from running three miles?" He chuckled darkly, letting his shoulders bounce to the laughs he let slip from his sneering lips.

Horace narrowed his eyes, letting his guard fall. "Are you only here to tease me?" Alda halted his laughter and eyed Horace with a cold stare that, for a reason Horace couldn't grasp, didn't make the first year trainee caution in any way.

Alda advanced on the younger man in one stride, making Horace take half a step back in caution. This idiot was acting differently then all those other times before. Alda scratched his chin for a second, looking Horace up and down. "I never noticed how much built you were than me."

Did Horace hear him right? "Why do you say that? What do you want?" He snapped, defensiveness edging back into his uncertain voice. Alda cocked an eyebrow as the kid took up a defensive posture, facing his right shoulder out to the older man as if to mock him into a duel. Alda only merely bit his lip in a moment of pausing before he began to talk once again.

"I mean, you and I both know you're one of the best swordsmen in the class. Hell, even Sir Rodney notices your potential." Horace had never heard of this wretched man before him actually _complimenting _him before. It came to him as utter shock. "Wh-what are you trying to say here?" Horace asked, exhaustion thick in his voice.

"Can you help me with my fighting skills?"


	2. The Next Morning

Alda met Horace the next morning, after the young trainee told him he needed time to think about the proposal. The next morning was nice, since Horace was spared of being woken up in the middle night by the three tormentors. Today was a free day, which Horace usually spent practicing battle techniques anyway, but this time it would be different.

It was hard to grasp the fact that Alda needed his help. His mind thought over the reasons this older male could be asking for _his _help. As he left his dorm room, heading to the doorway that leaded to the outside world which was still dewy and thick, almost like the air was trying to wake itself up from its still slumber, he met a strange conclusion that Alda was just doing this to make him a fool in front of everyone, and become the laughing stock of the School.

Before he could hang onto this hunch, he met the older Battle School trainee outside the door, possibly waiting for the man to wake up. His face was a solemn expression, not showing any emotion that could make Horace suspicious against the bully. "Finally you've woken." Alda mumbled, already walking up with the practice wooden swords the cadets worked with while training.

Horace let out a long held in sigh before he could reply, "I still don't get why need my help with training." He met Alda's eyes for a quick second, which only flickered a second but the younger cadet couldn't think of what that flicker was. He shrugged it off and walked with Alda to the training grounds. Leather boards were warming in the sunlight, heat waves wriggling from the black cloth. Horace pointed to a spot near the end of the line, his eyes locking with Alda's.

Alda nodded and walked over to the chosen spot. He grabbed for his wooden sword but Horace stopped him, narrowing his eyes. "You'll be trained exactly as how Sir Rodney trains us." His finger snapped to the heavy armor they used for training. Alda opened his mouth slightly to reject, but met the younger man's stern yet cold stare and decided to not and try to argue.

_For someone as young as Horace he's one hard ass. _Alda echoed in his head as he strapped on the heavy and exhausting armor. He grabbed for the wooden sword and saw Horace close his eyes slowly and nodding his head. He resembled Sir Rodney in a way as he stood there with his built arms crossed across his chest.

Alda then moved into his fighting stance, the shield near his waist and his knees bent slightly with his sword extended out to the leather board. Horace waited a moment, feeling the heat of the sun bask on his head and arms. After a long burdened second, Horace opened his eyes. "Sequence three!"

Alda began, making the swift movement with his sword as it thrust against the leather pouch. Horace felt his mouth crease into a frown, his brow furrowing against his eyes. The older man finished and stood up straight. Horace only mumbled hoarsely under his breath. "Alda, think of me as Karel ordering you to do the sequences. When I say them, you say the sequence out loud to me as you do them!"

Alda narrowed his eyes sternly at the younger first year trainee before he stubbornly obeyed. He got into the fighting stance again, and waited for Horace's orders. "Sequence Three."

"Thrust! Thrust! Backstep! Cross Parry! Shield Block! Side Cut!" Alda called as he did the moves with ease. Horace furrowed his brow more. He seemed like a natural fighter, why would he ask for help from a first year cadet? The question still burned into his mind.

The training went on for half the day, and when noon turned around, Alda was already having trouble keeping up to Horace fast pace. The first year cadet cast his eyes up to the heavens, seeming to roll them in annoyance before he noticed how later in the day it was. He remembered how he had awoken at the crack of dawn, and now it was getting near Lunch. He snapped his gaze back to Alda, motioning for the older man to put away his armor.

"I think that's good for now, Alda. I think you deserve to enjoy your day."Horace said, smiling at him. Alda only grumbled to himself as he set the equipment where it was placed in the early morning and trudged off to his dorm. Horace watching him leave with silent recognition. Alda may not agree with him if he was to tell him this statement, but Alda was very much like him when it came to fighting.


	3. Meeting with Will

For the rest of the day, Horace walked along the outskirts of the kingdom. His thoughts were mingled with why Alda was being so…well kind wasn't the word…something around the area of kindness, and what happened to the group of three that would torment him in such a way. As he walked along the dirt path south of the kingdom to where a familiar Ranger and his apprentice lived, he caught the sound of footsteps behind him.

His head swiveled behind his direction of walking, scanning the bushes and undergrowth that lined the worn down path made by so many horses and villagers. No such movement crossed his vision. Horace slowly turned back around, his neck hairs prickling like something was watching him. Then again, he always had that feeling.

He saw the cottage, owned by Halt and his apprentice Will. Will and him go way back, Horace recalled as he spotted that same apprentice shooting arrows at targets near the cottage out back. He walked carelessly up over to the back of the cottage to where Will was in stern concentration. He let go of the bow string, sending the arrow clean into a tree trunk, hearing the _thud _as it sliced into the bark. "Good shot."

Will turned around behind him to see his old Ward mate watching his training. The smaller man set his bow down and made his way over to Horace, his face not expressing surprise or happiness to see the man here. _"_What brings you by here, Horace?" Will asked, no weariness or hostility in his voice. Horace seemed to place a smile on his lips as he thought of a good thing to respond to Will. "Oh, it's a day off at Battle School and I decided to take a stroll down here to see what's going on with you."

Will rubbed his chin with his thumb, cocking an eyebrow at his old enemy's sudden kindness. "Well, Halt is inside going over paperwork, so he told me to make myself useful and practice my Ranger training as much I can today." Horace nodded, clearly disappointed because he knew what the answer of his future question would be. "So I guess you can't take a break then?"

"Why do you ask?" Will responded rather quickly, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. Horace chuckled softly to himself and answered modestly, "Well to be honest I have a question that's been ebbing my mind. I was wondering if I could get some advice about it."

"Advice from me?" Will asked, rather stunned.

"Well, yes, it has to do with how we are old enemies now kindling in a new friendship."

Will nodded slowly, thinking things over, and looked up at Horace. "All right, let me ask Halt."

Horace waited outside of the cottage for a while until Will walked swiftly out of the door, his cloak making him seem almost like a ghost against the forest background. "He said it's alright. But only for an hour."

Horace nodded and they walked down along the dirt trail. "So tell me what's on your mind." Will asked rather mentor-like, his Ranger's cloak covering his face up only to show the end of his nose and his mouth.

Horace took in a breath before he began. "Alda and his group have been tormenting me since…well God knows how long…and all of a sudden, in the late of the evening last night, Alda came to me with a favor."

"What favor was that?"

"He asked me to train him for battling with swords. He wasn't all that great…he said…but he's a Third Year cadet! He should be better than me on so many levels!" Horace said, spilling out what was on his mind since last night. Will looked over what his old enemy had just said, thinking about what he could respond with to such a puzzling statement.

"Something is up about him and I don't know what it is. Someone can't suddenly be nice to you without a reason!" Horace added after Will stayed silent. The young Apprentice chewed on his thumb nail as he thought about what it could be. "Maybe he has gotten tired of the constant torment and decided friends are better than enemies?"

Horace seriously doubted that guess, and he shook his head vigorously. "I doubt that, Will. He and his friends enjoy the torment and pain I go through when they harass me hours on end."

Will couldn't help but feel sympathy for the poor man, his heart aching quite a bit for his pain. They had now turned a corner on the path, leading to a small stream that a horse could easily leap over with its rider. Will scratched the tip of his nose. "All that I can tell you is…keep an eye out on him. Don't let your guard down…be always in the presence of a knight whenever you are training him…okay?"

Horace nodded to Will's advice. For once, the smaller man had helped him somewhat in the long run.


End file.
